


Rules to Live By

by CorvusCorvidae



Series: One, Two, Three [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, OT3, Oral Sex, Roommates, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/F, anya and lexa don't want to admit they want clarke, anya and lexa don't want to admit they want each other, clarke doesn't care and comes in with her party trick and questions and ruins all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorvusCorvidae/pseuds/CorvusCorvidae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke goes from sleeping on their couch to sleeping in their beds; and it might just be the best thing that's ever happened to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rules to Live By

*0*0*

Pillows on the couch and sheets laid out were the first indication to Lexa that something was up. Anya hadn’t said anything, and checking the bedrooms, Lexa noted there was no physical damage to suggest the new sleeping arrangement. So what was going on?

“I’ve invited a friend to stay,” Anya explained, later that night, having come back from work late, with takeout in her arms.

“A friend?” Anya wasn’t known as being the friendliest of people, and the friends she did invite over, they usually slept in Anya’s room. They also left with hickies on their necks and a content smile on their lips, but that was neither here nor there.

“Clarke Griffin.” Oh.

“And she’s staying on the couch?” Lexa asked, helping to unpack the food.

“We’re not that type of friends,” Anya explained, not phased at all by Lexa’s questions

“Yet,” Lexa added, and Anya rolled her eyes in return.

But didn’t deny it.

*0*0*

Clarke arrived with a bag slung over her shoulder and a bottle of booze in her hand, which automatically meant she went up in estimations. She glowed with confidence and enthusiasm, her smile adding a light neither roommate had seen in a while, and the charm that came with her was enough to have both licking their lips in appreciation as Clarke showed off her party ‘trick’.

She could drink a bottle of beer with no hands, her mouth doing all the work round the neck of the bottle, before leaning back, swallowing, and they watched with rapture as the bottle moved in and out with each swallow, before Clarke dropped it back down with a cheeky grin.

That was an oral fixation neither were likely to forget any time soon.

Lexa’s first impression of her was that Clarke was dangerous, manipulative, charming, which together made a deadly combination. She was also just the right amount of all three to have Lexa holding her gaze with Clarke, noting the interest, and letting it be.

Anya was in the same boat. Lexa could see that a mile away. Her roommate had exactly the same idea in mind, and that in itself meant neither would make a move on it.

When there was no beer left for Clarke to deepthroat, and the whiskey on Lexa’s lips had her walking unsteady, they finally decide to call it a night.

Clarke took the couch, with Lexa and Anya wandering back to their rooms.

“So, what did you think?” Anya asked, leaning against Lexa’s doorframe, her voice down low, so Clarke didn’t hear.

“She’s something else.” Anya hummed in agreement, and the two of them shared one final look before biding the other goodnight.

They were now on the same page. She was off limits.

Shame, but necessary.

*0*0*

It didn’t take long for Clarke to become a permanent resident in their apartment. Anya had said she needed a place to stay, and if it really was an issue, then she’d give up her bed, but Lexa didn’t complain. Anya knew why.

So Clarke stayed. She drank their beer, properly, most of the time. She ate their food. She watched their netflix. She basically moved in.

Clarke thought so, too, it seemed.

“What’s this?” Anya asked, her name scrawled on an envelope, next to one that had Lexa’s name on it.

“That’s yours,” Clarke answered, mixing up a pot of chilli on the stove.

Lexa leant against the counter, watching, providing tips where needed, but her curiosity peaked when Anya handed her the envelope over. Right enough, her name was on the front.

Together, they opened them, and both shot each other a ‘What the fuck is this?’ look, before turning to Clarke.

“Is this from you?”

“It’s my rent, for last month,” Clarke explained, unfazed by the two of them behind her shaking their heads and protesting. “Look, you’ve both let me live here for free, and that’s hardly fair. Especially when I do make pretty good money now and then. So, this is my share, or at least, this is what a third of the rent is on the apartment across the street that’s up for let, so I just assumed it was close. Tell me if you both need more.”

“You don’t need to pay us,” Lexa said, still shaking her head, and that finally had Clarke turning.

“Me sprawled out half naked on your couch payment enough?” she teased, and Anya let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, like you’re any better Miss ‘I’ll-pretend-to-read-this-book-while-you-do-yoga’,” Clarke shot, silencing Anya.

“Okay, so we may have enjoyed you staying for various reasons,” Anya admitted, feeling the heat on her cheeks; Lexa, too. “But you don’t have to pay rent, not when you sleep on the couch.”

“You guys do know your couch is better than most beds, right?” Given how much Anya had to fork over when Lexa insisted on buying it, she hoped so. Regardless, that wasn’t the point.

“It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Well, if it wasn’t, I wouldn’t offer. Plus, it’s not like I’ll be here forever, so just deal with it. Now, come on, help me decide if this is hot enough?” Clarke nodded to the pot of chilli, and neither women were going to push the conversation further, so went to taste.

As if they wouldn’t.

*0*0*

Friday night used to be date night, back when Anya and Lexa pretended to have lives outside of each other. As the years went on, dates dwindled, and they were happier to just go for drinks themselves, or to bring food in.

Clarke, however, hadn’t joined that routine. She had an active social life, although neither of them met her partners. A few nights every so often, the couch would be unslept on, and less conversation was made over breakfast. She’d be home by evening, and they’d get on like nothing happened.

Tonight, however, the keys in the door told both Lexa and Anya that Clarke had returned. The two of them had come home from work, grabbed booze from the fridge, and not moved from the couch since.

“How was the date?” Lexa called, putting her bottle of beer on the side table, and slouching a little less in the chair.

“Meh, it could have been better,” Clarke replied, coming into the living room, dropping her shoes by the couch, and crawling down next to Anya.

“How so?”

“Well, I’m here, and not out there getting laid,” Clarke answered, bluntly, reaching out across to the side table where Lexa’s drink was. She thieved the bottle, taking a swig, and continued holding it close to herself.

“That why you went out tonight?” Anya asked, her arm over the back of the couch, eyeing Clarke.

“That was the aim,” she grinned, having another drink, and then passing the bottle back over to Lexa, who finished it off.

“I’ll get another,” she said, rising from the couch, and heading into the kitchen.

“So what did you two get up to without me?” Clarke looked at Anya expectantly, while they heard Lexa puttering around in the kitchen.

“Does the bottles of beer laying around and us still in our work clothes not tell you enough?” Anya replied, finishing off her drink, and then accepting another bottle that Lexa was now handing to her. She then passed Clarke one, and took a seat again.

“We gave up on responsibilities tonight, and haven’t moved since,” Lexa added, tugging on her pants to back her up. She was still wearing suit trousers, her white work shirt also on, although casual with the sleeves rolled up. Anya was no better, in a similar outfit, but with a dark grey shirt.

“Well, now I’m wishing I’d stayed in so I didn’t miss all the action,” Clarke teased, and Lexa and Anya shared an amused look. “Since we’re drinking, and you two look relaxed for a change; I have a question,” Clarke began, getting comfier on the couch, her dress riding up as she moved about.

“Go on,” Anya said, and they waited, watching.

“Have you two ever…?” Clarke asked, waving the bottle between the two of them, her meaning clear. Lexa eyed Anya, who looked back, both weighing up their responses.

“Once,” Lexa began.

“In college,” Anya finished.

“Not a good night?” Clarke teased, wondering about how the two of them never progressed onto more. They lived together, they spent day after day with one another, and yet they weren’t dating.

“Good night, bad timing,” Anya explained, eyes looking away from Lexa that time, and obviously there was enough history there for Clarke to avoid bringing up the timing issue again.

“And that’s it? No more nights of curiosity? No reliving that time together?”

“Could get messy, didn’t seem worth the risk.”

“Do you know how hard it is to find a decent roommate in this city?” Lexa asked, thinking that was enough.

“No, I got lucky with you two,” Clarke said, shrugging.

“Why the curiosity?”

“You two are stunning, and look like a power couple, with your lives together and your good looks, and it just seems odd you wouldn’t try it.” She shrugged again, and Anya and Lexa were left to take in her words.

There were many good reasons why they wouldn’t try it. There was too much at risk, now. Maybe, back when they were both students with endless possibilities ahead of them, they could have gone for it, given it a go, and seen what happened. Now, though, things were different.

If it went wrong, they’d risk their friendship, their home, and that level of comfort that was so hard to find with others. It wasn’t like they were happy go-lucky people, like Clarke, who could make friends anywhere. Loyalties ran deep. Sex, love, it wasn’t worth it.

Neither commented, and Clarke took that as answer enough, with the two of them both sipping their beer.

“Is Lexa a good kisser?” she then went on to ask, turning to Anya, and earning an amused look from Lexa.

“Find out for yourself.” That made Clarke laugh, with it turning into a smirk.

“You don’t kiss and tell?” Anya shook her head, a lazy smile on her lips, and Clarke turned to Lexa instead.

“Is Anya a good kisser?” she tried, hoping for a better response.

“Yes.” Well, obviously Lexa had no issue sharing.

“You sound sure.”

“I am.” Lexa’s confident response, her certainty, had Anya smiling, because thank you.

“You two are kidding me, right?” Clarke then asked, and that pulled their attention back.

“About what?” Anya asked, sipping her beer again, watching with curiosity.

“The two of you have this undercurrent of sexual tension between you,” she exclaimed, pointing between them once more, as if it was obvious.  

“No we don’t,” Lexa was quick to say, shaking her head.

“You do!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke could see Anya’s heavy gaze on her. It was penetrating, stripping her down, making her feel like she was under the microscope.

“What are you after, Clarke?” Anya asked, moving closer, satisfied to some extent by what she’d seen.

“What do you mean?” It was easy to play dumb. Clarke had a PhD in it.

“What’s the fascination surrounding Lexa and myself?” Anya’s body was now right against Clarke’s, their legs touching, their arms touching, their focus fixed on the other.

Maybe it was time for Clarke to come clean.

“Is it wrong that I want to watch you two make out?” That earnt a laugh from Lexa and an amused head shake from Anya. “From my first night here, I thought it would happen, but it hasn’t. So…”

“You couldn’t have just said that earlier, instead of all the questions.” Honesty was always the better policy.

“I was hoping you’d grow curious and just do it anyway, without me saying.” Clarke shrugged, feeling heat on her cheeks. The beer in her hand wasn’t the first drink of the night, she’d had quite a few on her date, and being bold was easier with a little liquid courage.

“Nice try.”

“So you’re not going to?” she tried again, a little smirk playing at her lips.

“To what? Make out with each other for your viewing pleasure? No, we’re not,” Anya replied, shaking her head, frowning.

That wasn't the consensus in the room, however.

“I think…” Clarke began, once again moving closer to Anya, into her space, her breath tickling her neck as she moved her lips closer to her ear. “I think you only spoke for yourself, there,” she whispered, her eyes moving over to Lexa on the other couch.

She was sprawled out, legs open, wide, confident, her eyes dark, lips wet, and Clarke wondered if this was really going to go the way she hoped. Anya took note of Lexa’s posture, the way her eyes tracked Anya’s tongue as it licked her lips, and oh. Okay.

Raising an eyebrow in question, Anya waited. Lexa shrugged in response, leaving the option up to her; her thoughts were already clear.

“I would, if I was you,” Clarke said, also watching their exchange, and that had Anya looking away from Lexa, back to Clarke.

“Of course you would, you’ve wanted her since your first night here,” Anya said, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Problem with that?” It was a test, those words, and Anya felt it, too.

“No.” Thankfully, that was the truth. It didn’t bother her. They were both free to do whatever they wanted.

And so was she.

Moving to the edge of the couch, her movement was tracked by Lexa, who sat forward. They caught each other’s eyes before standing at the same time. Anya took steady steps until she was standing before her roommate.

It felt surreal, but at the same time, inevitable.

Raising her eyebrow again, Anya checked, just to be sure. Lexa nodded, once, and then opted to make the first move. One hand on her waist, one on the side of Anya’s neck, and Lexa was moving closer.

The last time they’d kissed, it was the morning after the night before. Anya had hickies on her neck, bruising on her hips, and an ache that was all too pleasant. She was standing in Lexa’s apartment, leaning against the cooker, watching Lexa make breakfast. It was domestic, and final, and Anya had wanted one last moment of the previous night before they returned to who they were. So, she leaned over, pulling Lexa’s attention, sweeping her hair away from her face, and closed the distance.

After that, they went back to being friends, to ignoring the temptation. Now, though, now things were different.

Now Lexa’s lips were millimeters away from Anya’s, the two of them were holding on to that last moment, last breath, before taking a leap of faith that this wouldn’t cause the ground to crumble from beneath them.

And it resulted in a sigh, a shaky breath as Lexa kissed Anya, soundly, no hint of uncertainty on her lips. It had Anya kissing back, chasing those lips that she had admired for so long. They could taste the beer, the desire, and God, each kiss was not enough. They needed more.

Anya made that move, having caught up, having accepted this was happening, and thank fuck it was, because hallelujah. She opened her mouth ever so slightly into the next kiss, and swiped her tongue across Lexa’s bottom lip, earning a shaky breath and a harder kiss in return. Lexa’s tongue was everything Anya remembered it to be, and that had the heat pooling in between her thighs.

This was only meant to be a makeout session, though. This was only meant to be a few kisses. This was not meant to be the culmination of every sexual thought they’d had for the other since that night together.

This was not meant to be what it had become.

Yet, Anya couldn’t stop kissing Lexa, touching Lexa, and encouraging Lexa. From grinding into Lexa’s body, to nipping at her bottom lip when she tried to stray to kiss her neck. Lexa liked to mark, that she’d learnt the hard way. Shame, Anya did, too, but no way in hell was she letting Lexa mark her first.

So, she kissed her harder, pulled her body closer, and let her hands stray over Lexa’s shirt; one at the base of her back, and the other sliding up her rib cage. It achieved the desired effect, Lexa panting between each kiss, and then, the slightest of moans, as Anya’s fingers caressed the underside of her breasts.

It was so slight, could so easily have been missed, but thankfully not. Anya had heard it, loud and clear, and ended up gripping Lexa’s waist tighter, pulling her body closer, which didn’t feel possible anymore, until their hips were against the other.

Only, then there was another moan, which had Lexa frowning, knowing that was not Anya moaning, and Anya pulling back, catching her breath, and turning to see where the sound came from.

“Oops?” Clarke said, cringing on the couch, at having broken them apart. She looked slightly more dishevelled than when they’d last looked her way; her hair was a mess, her bottom lip was dark red, from being bitten, no doubt, and she was sitting tightly cross legged. “Can we just forget I did that and you two go back to what you were doing?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in question.

Seeing them standing together, arms wrapped round the other, the way their bodies were trying to move for more friction, and the way their lips sought contact, it might just have been the hottest sight she’d ever seen.

And this wasn’t Clarke’s first rodeo, so that was saying something.

Anya let out a small laugh, licking her bruising lips, and then glanced at Lexa, who also had a small smile on her lips. Due to their cohabitation, they’d learnt to communicate with simple looks, and Anya’s questioning gaze had Lexa’s fingers sliding down Anya’s stomach, to rest on her belt.

“I’m game if you are,” she said, huskier, darker, and fuck, Anya had missed that voice.

She remembered it so well, heard it every so often in her dreams, with them back in Lexa’s bed, and Anya’s body responding to everything she was saying, doing. To hear it again, and to know what was back on the table, it made her press her thighs together, hard, hoping for some relief.

There was none.

Yet.

“Clarke,” Anya began, turning back to the woman on the couch.

“Yes?” She really hoped that she wasn’t about to get kicked out. It was selfish, because hello, they were definitely going to fuck, but the part of her that got off on voyeurism was so up for this.

“Come here,” Lexa finished, one arm leaving Anya’s body, and reaching out for her.

At first, it felt like a dream, then a joke, and finally, reality  was sinking in. They really were proposing what she thought they were.

Clarke got up, without having to think twice, and stopped just shy of where they were. She wanted a second, just to check they were both on board, but that wasn’t needed. Not one bit. Lexa and Anya closed the distance, reaching out, their hands landing on her waist, her dress that felt too heavy, and then someone, one of them, was kissing her neck. She couldn’t keep her eyes open, not with how good their lips felt, and how the hand sliding up the inside of her thigh was not going fast enough.

“We’re going to fuck you,” Lexa said, and the kissing continued, so that answered the question of who was where.

“I was kind of hoping you’d fuck each other,” the voyeur in Clarke said, opening her eyes, to Lexa on her right, Anya on her left.

“We’re going to do that, too,” Anya said, against her skin, before applying more kisses, sucking ever so slightly.

The first mark was down, and it had Anya smirking, while Lexa rolled her eyes.

“You won’t believe this, but I never thought I stood a chance of being in this position,” Clarke admitted, running her fingers through Lexa’s curls, as she moved to stand behind her. That allowed Anya to lift her head, now in front, and grin.

“You deepthroated a beer bottle, do you really think we stood a chance?” she said, shaking her head, as if they could resist her.

That had Clarke smirking, now knowing that little party trick was six for six. She’d yet to strike out it.

“Shame you don’t have something else I can deepthroat.” Lexa’s hips jerking into her ass was indication enough, that oh, she liked the sound of that.

“Actually, pretty sure we do,” Anya said, one hand on Clarke’s cheek, turning her head so she could kiss her freely, soaking up the taste of beer, the hint of whiskey she could taste, and the pure taste of Clarke.

Breaking the kiss, because that thought needed to be explored, Clarke turned her head to look at Lexa, whose pupils were blown, and then back to Anya, gaining both their attention.

“You two can decide between you,”

“Decide who goes first?” Lexa asked, with a nod from Anya, and Clarke found herself laughing, shaking her head at the two of them.

“Go,” Anya then said, looking at Lexa, before turning her attention back to Clarke. “I think I can find another use for your mouth.” Clarke grinned into the next kiss, soaring in the knowledge that so many of her fantasies were going to be coming true tonight.

“Oh, Lex?” Clarke called, pulling back for a quick sec, looking over her shoulder as she did so, seeing Lexa on her way to the bedrooms.

“Hmm?”

“Put your pants back on after, I want to be the one to unzip them.” Lexa didn’t need to be told twice, with a nod in understanding, and then she was gone.

One down, but still going strong, Clarke turned back to Anya and pushed at her shirt, until she was walking backwards. When Anya’s legs met the couch, she sat down, obediently, watching, a smirk on her lips as she did so, and now it was Clarke’s turn to smirk.

She was taking control, the best way she knew how, by being on top.

Sitting astride Anya’s legs, the hem of her dress riding up high on her thighs, Clarke captured Anya’s lips with her own, and wrapped her arms around her neck. Anya made her own hands useful, with them landing on Clarke’s hips, urging her body to move, which Clarke was happy to oblige with.

There was still not enough friction between her thighs, but every so often, she’d get this feeling of relief, and rolling her hips again, she sought it once more. Anya’s own hips were grinding upwards, seeking the same relief, and no longer could she focus on kissing Clarke.

Instead, she dropped her head against Clarke’s shoulder, panting into it, as she moved harder, faster, pulling Clarke’s waist against her own for the desired effect.

Low moans, panting, white knuckles, it was building, until Clarke was basically riding her lap, and Anya dropped back into the couch, using both hands to grind Clarke down, who had her head back, mouth open, eyes closed, just feeling, and fuck all these clothes between them, that wasn't going to stop her.

She was close, but not close enough, and it was becoming frustrating how damn close she was. She just needed that little bit more, and then she’d be tumbling over the edge.

That little bit more came in the form of Lexa; her footsteps quiet as they moved closer, but still enough to be heard. It wasn’t enough, though, for Clarke to stop, to look, or to falter. She kept going, with Anya, too.

She did make eye contact with Lexa, a tortured smirk on her lips, as Anya continued to delight in the sensation of Clarke riding her lap, and the feeling of her own impending orgasm. To Lexa, the sight was unlike one she’d seen before, but it was one she definitely want to see again.

Moving closer, until she was between Anya’s open legs, and at Clarke’s back, Lexa saw how close she was, how desperate Clarke was, and couldn’t help herself any more.

Clarke felt Lexa’s body press against hers, the strap-on pressing into her back, and fought a moan at that. Then the pressure was gone, replaced by another one, but this time on her neck. Lexa’s teeth were scraping the skin between each kiss, while her hands came round, running up her front, taking her dress-clad breasts in her hands, and caressing them, applying the lightest of pressure, her fingers feeling the pebbled nipples, and then squeezing a little harder.

That, that was enough, with the sensation overload, Clarke’s hips effectively fucking herself on Anya’s lap, and with Lexa’s lips on her neck and hands on her front, she was coming. Her own grinding grew sloppy, harder, sharper, faster, seeking that one feeling, and she let out a guttural moan, gasping, gasping, gasping, for more.

Anya was no better, watching Clarke come, and losing it, the tension in her body snapping like a twig as she groaned, thrusting up to keep the sensation going, and coming, fully dressed, from just prue rutting.

It felt very back seat of the car, out after curfew; but then Clarke was grinning, glowing, her mouth was on Anya’s, her tongue hinting at its full potential, which was so unlike what they’d just done. It burned. It set her alight again, and her instincts were telling her to take Clarke’s dress off, to bend her over, to-

“Sit tight,” Clarke murmured against her lips, before getting up.

Anya felt the loss, but only for a moment, because Clarke was now on her knees before Lexa, who was standing up tall, the front of her pants bulging from the strap-on, and this was going to be a sight to behold.

Lexa thought so, too; looking down, seeing Clarke’s mischievous smirk and that glint in her eye that said this was going to rock her world. Lexa knew that. Lexa knew Clarke was capable of that the first night she met her. This, this right here was just the proof.

Clarke’s hand running over the front of her pants, pressing the strap-on against her crotch, had Lexa taking a shaky breath, her knees weakening at Clarke’s satisfied look that followed. She then watched as the button of her pants was undone, and the zipper pulled down. Her pants did start to slide open, and down, but Clarke used one hand, placing it on Lexa’ waist, to keep them up.

The bulge that she had seen before was also now on show, and Lexa licked her lips as Clarke wrapped her hand around the strap on and gave a tug, pulling Lexa’s hips forward. The sight of her hand wrapped around her- it shouldn’t- Lexa’s shaky breath was enough indication that she was wholeheartedly up for this, and Clarke let out an amused exhale, before licking her lips, and swiping the head of the cock with her tongue.

Lexa looked pained, letting out a whine, and that made Clarke grin wider.

“Not had many girls on their knees for you?” she asked, curious, while using one hand to mimic jacking her off. Anya let out an amused bark of laughter in the background, which earnt her a glare from Lexa.

“Not many, no,” she replied, her voice deeper, and it probably should have been obvious from the way Lexa was acting, so keen, so desperate, but with restraint.

“Well, to help you out a little,” Clarke began, her tone teasing, “put you hands in my hair, and enjoy.”

Lexa could only nod as Clarke then wrapped her lips, properly, around the head of the strap-on, bobbing up and down ever so slightly, only to pull back completely, and use her tongue to tease at the sides.

It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, but fucking hell, Lexa’s body was on edge. Maybe it was good it wasn’t real because she probably would have come by now. The image of Clarke, her mouth, taking inch after inch; fucking hell.

Remember Clarke’s words, Lexa moved one hand into her hair, delicately running through the blonde tresses, but without applying any pressure. She didn’t need to encourage Clarke, because Clarke was clearly encouraged enough as it was, letting out a little moan as her nose touched the base of the strap on, bumping Lexa’s groin, and holy fuck that was beyond hot.

Anya thought so, too, if her groan of appreciation was anything to go by. And that had Lexa’s eyes flickering from Clarke’s mouth to Anya, who was watching, breathing heavily, from the couch. Eyes back down, Lexa’s fought the buck of her hips as Clarke worked the strap-on, so it applied pressure just where she needed it; it was not going to take much, because the sight of Clarke’s lips wrapped around her, God, it was just…

Watching Lexa’s eyes roll from Clarke’s ministrations was enough to have Anya getting up off the couch, and coming to stand behind her. She put her hands on Lexa’s hips and pressed into her back, wanting to help Lexa fall over the edge, then skimmed her fingers under Lexa’s shirt, across her stomach. It was even more satisfying watching Lexa struggle after that, listening to her breathing become erratic, and the way she worried her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes watching Clarke deepthroat the strap-on.

“Jesus,” Lexa moan, and that was Anya’s cue to up the ante, slipping higher under Lexa’s shirt, caressing her sides, up her ribcage, and to the edge of her bra.

Lexa’s breathing picked up, erratically so, and from Anya’s view, she could see Clarke moving faster, resulting in sharp bursts of pressure, and the rubber band that was Lexa’s resolve was about to snap.

Then it did, with a broken groan, a shaky breath, her fingers tightening briefly in Clarke’s hair, and leaning back into Anya’s body for support. It truly was amazing what one visual could do, and Lexa fought to stay upright, as Clarke pulled back, before wiping her mouth with her fingers, a smirk on her lips as she did so.

“Keep that on,” she said, rising from her knees, tugging on the strapon, making Lexa draw in a sharp breath through her teeth, still sensitive.

Clarke’s gaze then fell to Anya, who was still looking over Lexa’s shoulder. Her look was predatory, and for once, Anya did not mind being the prey. When Clarke moved closer, taking the front of her shirt in her hand and began directing her towards the couch, she moved willingly, eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

Lexa was watching, not understanding what was next to happen, and join the club.

Clarke then began unzipping Anya’s pants, pushing them down to her ankles, directing her to kick them off, before doing the same with her underwear. It was to the point, no nonsense, and then Clarke’s hand was between Anya’s legs, and fuck, fuck, fuck, warn a girl first.

She was suddenly on fire, pulsing, as Clarke teased her clit, sliding between her, as if sussing out what she liked and what she didn’t. Anya was still standing by this point, but when Clarke made for her to sit down, she did just that, not caring about the couch.

“Put yourself to good use back there, will you?” Clarke asked, turning back to Lexa, who simply frowned.

And then it all made sense.

Clarke hooked her fingers up, under her dress, and pulled down her underwear, slipping it off, and leaving it lying on the floor. She maneuvered herself until she was between Anya’s thighs, face down, ass up, and Lexa’s groan of appreciation was followed by one from Anya.

Clarke’s mouth might be the best thing either of them have ever experienced. From deepthroating to tongue fucking, she knew exactly how to use it, and Anya felt she was far too worked up for how little time Clarke had been between her legs.

A sudden moan made things worse, or better, as Anya burned brighter, feeling her body alight with every touch, and opening her eyes, she was met with Lexa’s hooded glaze, her hips moving steadily, fucking Clarke from behind.

Holy fuck. This girl was trying to kill them.

Hands back in Clarke’s hair, Anya found her hips bucking, trying to keep the attention where she most needed it, and moaning impatiently when Clarke moved her tongue lazily away. It was a special kind of slow torture.

To Clarke, she was loving every minute of it, tasting Anya on her tongue, breathing her in, and then feeling that satisfying thrust of Lexa behind her, filling her up, making her clench her thighs together, and lose focus. Not for long, though, because Anya was still there, tugging at her hair, bucking into her mouth, and widening her legs, offering up more and more, which Clarke was readily accepting.

The overstimulation could only last so long, however. As Clarke neared her own orgasm, she knew it wouldn’t be fair to keep drawing out Anya’s so stopped dividing her attention, and focused instead on her clit, sucking it gently into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue, and being rewarded with Anya’s increased moans.

Lexa wasn’t going to be far behind if her worsening rhythm was anything to go by, her hips thrusting harder, sharper, faster, and fuck, Clarke couldn’t help but push her ass backwards, in time to the thrusts, wanting Lexa to just lose control and fuck her with abandon.

She didn’t need to wait long, because Lexa lost if first, coming with her hands holding Clarke’s hips, pulling her back, harder, harder, harder, until there was a slight sting with her pleasure, but a delightful one all the same. Anya was next, seeing Lexa go, and Clarke’s moans of appreciation adding just what she needed to rut up into her face, not caring, only seeking her means to an end. The sudden new wetness of her chin, her lips, had Clarke following after, feeling her muscles tighten around Lexa’s strap-on, and still bucking back into it. She felt wanton, desperate for them to take her, to use her, and they were, and it was everything and more.

When Lexa pulled out, earning another moan, and Anya rolled away, too sensitive, Clarke dropped her head onto the couch, trying to get her breathing back. They were doing the exact same, with Lexa taking off the strap on, a glow to her skin from the sweat, and Anya, eyes closed, chest heaving, and a shake to her legs.

Thoroughly fucked, that’s how Clarke would describe them.

Smiling to herself, she moved back, wincing as her knees were really taking the brunt of tonight, but worth it anyway.

“If you two are done, then I severely underestimated you both,” she said, finally rising to her feet, stretching her arms high above her head, and then ditching the dress and bra.

She was unabashedly standing naked, smirking, and if Anya and Lexa weren’t in love with her before, they were now; watching from the couch, licking their lips, eyes still ablaze.

Giving them one last look, Clarke began heading off to the bedrooms, and it took all of two seconds for Lexa and Anya to look at each other, size up the situation, and nod. Their footsteps were not far behind.

Later, when Clarke was on her back, with Lexa on her right, and Anya on her left, their hands between her thighs and their lips on her neck, she had never been more thankful her date was a bust, because this, this was so much better.

*0*0*

Pillows on the couch and sheets laid out were the first indication to Lexa that something was up. The second indication was Anya coming home with an excessive amount of beer.

“Clarke’s coming to stay,” she explained, over dinner, and that had Lexa sitting up a little straighter.

“When?” she asked, her voice heavier than it had been.

It had been a few months since they’d last seen her, it had been a few months since either of them had had sex, and it had been a few months since either of them had pushed the boundaries that was their friendship.

Without Clarke, it went back to what it was. With her, it became so much more.

“She’ll be here tonight.” Nodding at that, Lexa tried to keep eating without over thinking it, but she couldn’t help it.

“Your room, or…” She let the question hang, leaving room for Anya to let her down gently.

Clarke could be coming just for Anya. They could be...well, Lexa knew the potential between them, she’d seen it, she’d been a part of it, so maybe...

“Yours, the bed is bigger,” Anya replied, taking a drink, her eyes locked with Lexa’s, message loud and clear.

All together or not at all.

The pillows and sheets were for show, they both knew it, and Clarke knew it, too; she laughed when she saw them, raising her eyebrows in challenge, shaking her head.

They all knew that she’d be spending her nights in their beds.

And she did, and it had never felt more right than when she was there, between them, above them, below them, kissing them without a second thought, and falling into their touch like four months hadn’t passed.

When spent, naked, and fighting off the allure of sleep, it was unspoken, but loud and clear; they couldn’t go another four months like that. They wouldn’t.

All together or not at all, that was the rule now. 

*0*0*

 

 


End file.
